It all started in a Motel
by Letflythearrow
Summary: Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the man who lost everything. Draco Malfoy, the boy who made all the wrong choices, and the man who is going to lose everything.
1. Try Harder

**Chapter 1**

_(POV: Draco Malfoy) _

He was living in a dream; a dream where he was still 18 and had his whole life like a yarn of string. He grew older and that string unravelled rapidly and the only thing that was left was a mess of string and the middle of the yarn that had previously held it together. As I kneeled onto broken glass and the dust on the pavement, I realised that he had not even tried to stop his life from becoming a mess. I resisted the urge to just leave him there and walk off. Why was I supposed to help a man that had refused to help himself? I was on the verge of getting up when I saw a trickle of blood leave the wound on his forehead, where the bottle was smashed on his head. Did he even care what people would think if they heard that the 'famous' Harry Potter was kicked out of a muggle bar at 3am, after picking a fight while completely drunk? I uttered a sigh and got up to leave when his eyes cracked open and stared at me. In his eyes, there was not a trace of shock or disgust that I was there in front of him, but a cry for help. I kneeled down in the shattered debris and carried his drunk, limp body.

"Draco, what," he mumbled.

"Potter, I'm not leaving your half-dead body in a dumpster. Where do you live? I'll drop you off safely and make sure I leave before I get seen anywhere near you."

With that, he passed out in my arms, with his wounded form staining my white shirt with blood.

"Now what am I supposed to do? I don't even know where you live," I said, practically talking to myself.

He was still unconscious in my arms.

For a second there I considered bringing him back to the Manor but then I imagined Mother's face once she sees Potter in my arms. She would be less worried about my health, my mental health, in particular, if I did not come home for the night. I hailed a taxi and directed him to the nearest muggle motel.

"Two rooms, sir?" the lady at the front desk asked.

I looked at my wallet which was painfully devoid of much muggle cash.

"No, one room."

I doubt I'll ever forget the look that she gave me.

"I would suppose that you would want two **separate** beds?"

"Obviously," I said, my patience thin at 3.30am.

I got my room key and dumped Potter off in one bed. The wallpaper was peeling off and the 2-seater sofa that separated the beds should have been black, but now was edging onto pale grey. The beds were at different corners of the room and I looked across the room and saw Harry Potter slumped onto the bed like a dead body. I grinned as I thought of how I could exploit this situation to the press if I wanted to. I drowned myself in semi-malicious thoughts as I drowned out the voice in my head that was yelling my fiancée's name and alerting me to how worried she probably was. That voice was drowned out as I fell asleep in a room that cost me 20 dollars for one night.

_(POV: Harry Potter)_

The ceiling looked worn out and the cheap whitewash was peeling away. It was unfamiliar. I felt the rough sheets and the hard pillow against my pounding head. It was unfamiliar. Everything about this place was blurry and unfamiliar. To top it all off, I couldn't see without my glasses. I saw a pale figure with blonde hair running across the room carrying what looked like a black weapon. Hissing noises and the smell of egg and oil filled my nose. The pale figure grew closer to me holding out what looked like my glasses; those rectangular life savers that Ginny had forced me to buy after getting sick and tired of my too-small, broken glasses that I wore during my many years in Hogwarts.

"Potter, you're finally awake. I was expecting you to be slumped on that bed for the whole day," the pale figure said.

That crisp voice and that posh accent were all too familiar. The pale hands put my glasses on my face as I realised who it was. That pale face and blonde hair finally had a name. I saw the man who hated me the very core of his soul. Yet, here he was, making me French toast.

"Where is this place?" I asked, doubting that the Manor would be in such a shabby condition.

"It's an underpriced motel," Malfoy replied

"I'm surprised that you would stay in a place that costs less than 100 dollars per day."

"I'm surprised that you can still be so cocky after last night."

"Why...are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I be here, Potter? Should I have left you in a garbage can, surrounded by broken glass and smelling like beer?"

"I..."

"Well, breakfast seems to be ready. Bon appetit," Malfoy said as he pointed to a corner.

Malfoy had conjured up a mini kitchen, along with ingredients. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Malfoy edging away from me. I looked down and saw that my pants were wet and my leg was sticky. I also smelled like alcohol and vomit. I wondered why Malfoy put up with this.

"On the other hand, I think you really should go and shower first."

"I...yeah"

I walked into the cramped toilet and saw Draco's clothes strewn on the floor. I looked into the mirror and noticed something different. I was wearing a white shirt that I didn't remember owning. It was dotted with dark blood from what seemed like small wounds. I glanced down and saw a familiar green shirt lying alongside Draco's clothes. The toilet was very clean, like someone scrubbed it to get rid of something.

"I don't want to know how drunk I was," I mumbled to myself as I kicked the clothes to one side and opened the shower tap to take a very long, warm shower.

I had no clothes or towel to cover myself. Beads of sweat mixed with the water dripping from my face and drenched me. It dawned on me that I had nothing to change into other than my stained and soiled clothes. I heard a sharp knock on my toilet door and a smug sentence following it.

"Potter, forget something?"

I felt that I had no choice but to ask him.

"I need clothes," I said quickly

"I have spare clothes but you'll need to try harder to get it," he said, mockingly.

"Draco, come on..."

With that, the door knob turned and opened a once locked door. Malfoy stood at the door, holding spare clothes, with a devilish grin on his face.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Try...**harder,** Potter or you're going to learn exactly why you're wearing my shirt right now," he said, with a smirk.

With that, all I felt was a wall and his skin.


	2. Work

**Chapter 2**

_(POV: Draco Malfoy)_

The first thing I saw was the iron gates. As I stood in front of it, sweating nervously, I could feel the powerful magic radiating from the gates. Father had cast a spell that did not allow anyone to apparate right into the house. A pigeon flew over my head and slammed into the wards that protected my house. With a sickening thud and a spectacular flash of blue light, it fell to the ground, dead. If I envisioned myself as the bird and the spells that protected my house as Astoria, the bird would still have ended up dead. I swallowed my fear and stood closer to the gates, which sensed that I was a Malfoy and let me in. The winding pathway through a maze of bushes, hedges, fountains and brilliant albino peacocks did little to calm me down. I could barely appreciate the beauty of the Manor's garden as I neared the door. I had barely placed my foot on the doorstep when,

"Draco," a cold voice said from the other side of the door.

Her brown hair was badly combed and she was still in her crumpled nightgown. The bags under her eyes were a stark contrast from her pale skin. She looked as if she had not slept all nice. All that fear that I held in came rushing back.

Unwillingly, I stepped in.

She lead me to the dining hall where I saw my dinner plate piled with yesterday's food. She forced me to sit down and handed me a fork and a spoon.

"I...I'm full..." I retorted.

"Oh? Who did you eat with? You know Draco that leads us to a **very** interesting question. Where the bloody hell were you all night you fu-"

"I was gone for one night Astoria. It wasn't a month. I got caught up..."

"Caught up with which woman and in which bed?"

"**Astoria.** **How **dare** you accuse me**? Darling...Honey ,I won't cheat on you with another woman. I...I love you...Astoria, please..."

There was barely an inch between the both of us.

"Fine, Draco...honey. If it wasn't a woman, who was it?"

"ASTORIA," I shouted as I got up. My face was deceiving me, turning beetroot red. Every breath I took became sharper and sharper. I slammed my fist on the table and left into my study before I betrayed myself and gave my secret away.

My thoughts went crazy.

Astoria should never know. She will never know. But, somehow, I suspected that she already knew. I told her that I was going to meet Harry Potter to discuss the details of the latest findings of ancient magical civilisations. Harry Potter worked as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic and it made perfect sense for me, the head of the Archaeological wing of the Ministry, to share resources with Potter. It was a perfect alibi but it felt like it didn't work.

She made it sound like I had cheated on her with Potter. It was an accident. I wasn't even attracted to Potter. Perhaps that's what spending one whole day locked up in a room with a man does to you. It doesn't mean that I'm in love with Potter or something. Nonsense, I spent half my life hating that man. Everything about him was filthy, his hair, his unkempt clothes, his fingernails, his blood. It was just out of impulse.

My eyelids became a screen in which obscene images from last night played.

His jet black hair, now giving in to show traces of brown, spread across his tanned face. His expression of shock as my hands reached for the towel that separating his body from mine. The way his lips parted and the way his tongue felt. How he lay on the wet floor, smelling like soap. How his face flushed and his back arched and how he reacted to a part of me being spread all over his body. Him on his knees and all the sounds he made...

A sharp cough was heard from the doorway.

All the memories vanished from my eyes and I instinctively used my palms to suppress all the activity in my pants before I turned around to face the person who rudely interrupted me.

I turned around and saw my mother standing in the doorway. Her once blonde hair was now a silver bun pinned up by a precious hairpin. Everything seemed normal about her, except her eyes. The corners of her eyes were crinkled, with what seemed to be, worry.

I could feel her looking into my eyes, extracting the images that tainted my mind; the images of that filthy Potter boy doing the filthiest things.

Panicking, I swept everything to the back of my head and tried to clear my mind.

"Tell me the truth. You can lie to Astoria but you cannot lie to me."

It was a gentle command.

I always respected my mother for the fact that she never scolded me. Her words were often like smooth silk but they always demanded something. I could never lie to her as a child. Neither could I as an adult.

"Mother, sit down."

She didn't sit down. Her grey eyes reflected my face, that showed nothing but panic.

"I know when you are lying to me and when you are afraid of telling me the truth," my mother voice came out older than she was.

"Mother, I'm 25, I know what I'm doing now. I was just caught up with work"

"I would love to believe that. But I'm afraid that I have reasons to doubt your words."

"Mother, trust me. Sit down please."

Mother sat down on the armchair on the other side of the room. She clapped her hands once and a house elf came with two cups of tea and a small tray of cakes. She took a cup of tea and put it in the table beside her. Once she put it down, the teacup did not exist anymore. Only my mother did.

I could feel my mother's grey eyes piercing through my soul. While Astoria's brown eyes only reflected anger, it was better than having my mother's eyes searching me.

"You're guilty of something, Draco,"

"Mother, I know what Astoria thinks. I did not cheat on her."

"Well then, it's all settled. I don't know what Astoria's worried about. But just as a pointless piece of information, I would like to inform you that acting on impulse also constitutes as cheating. I trust you."

"Mother, I-" I started to say.

"As a side note, Astoria is pregnant. Just thought you should know," she said, as she carefully took a sip of tea and put it back on the table. Without saying another word, she left the study.

I suddenly felt trapped in a room full of books. I had the urge to throw every book out of its shelf and dance on a graveyard of books. I was losing my mind. My mother told me that my wife was pregnant and all I could think of was about Harry Potter and how he crawled into my bed.

For the first time since Year 6, I broke down and started crying again.


	3. I do

**Chapter 3**

_(POV: Harry Potter)_

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony," he began.

Everything was a blurry mess of colours and flowers that were falling apart. I saw Mrs. Weasley sobbing out of happiness while giving me weak thumbs up. Every word the priest said seemed to mix with the next to form a psychedelic batter of words. Every second kept dragging. Finally, the doors flew open and I saw her walk in. Her tanned Quidditch player skin was drowned by layers of thin white cloth that was draped on her petite frame. Framed by red waves was the pale skinned face that I had grown to love over my many years alive. She was Ginny Weasley, my girlfriend, and in a few minutes, my wife. I turned my head and scanned the crowd nervously, waiting for the two words that I had to say.

Then, I saw a blonde bob of hair in the back row.

Ginny cleared her throat softly, bringing my attention back to her.

_That blonde bob raised its head._

"Do you, Ginny Weasley..."

_His eyes were fixed on me._

"Oi...Harry..." Ginny muttered as softly as she could

_My blood was freezing over._

"What? Oh, I do" I muttered, eyes still fixed on him

_Draco Malfoy was at my wedding._

I could hear cheering and relieved laughter.

_But all I saw were those grey eyes that never blinked._

I turned around to smile at Ginny, who was already beaming at me.

"Kiss me, you idiot," she mumbled.

"What? Oh."

_When I closed my eyes to kiss her, I saw his face._

I heard more cheering and music as I took Ginny's hand.

_It was like he showed up just to make everything more torturous for me._

_I didn't need to be constantly reminded of him._

_I did enough of that without his help._

"Pardon me for a second, Ginny," I said as I got up, eyeing the men's toilet as if it was some kind of escape route.

"But we're just about to cut the cake..."

"I'll be back really quickly," I hurriedly muttered as I started walking towards the toilet.

Water was dripping down from my face. I felt like I betrayed Ginny on a day that marked the beginning of my life together with her. Suddenly, a shadow fell on me. I didn't have to look in the mirror to know who it was.

"Potter," the voice said, lacking its usual tone of mockery.

I turned around to ask him to leave but by then, he had pinned me to the sink.

"Draco, please stop it. Not now, not here," I was abruptly cut off by his low voice.

"Potter, do you know how long I've waited for this. I don't care if you just got married. How can we be loyal to our wives if we're constantly thinking about each other?"

The sentence started out sounding like desperation and ended up in a throaty whisper that made my skin tingle.

"Draco..."

"No one says my name quite like you. Do you know that...Harry Potter..."

His lips were touching my ears now, getting a reaction from me that Ginny had failed to ever get.

My lips parted to let out a noise that was immediately muffled by his mouth.

He tasted the same. He tasted just like Draco Malfoy.

The door banged open.

"Harry, come," she started, but never finished.

A mixture of shock, dismay, disappointment, fear and anger danced on her face. I couldn't muster enough courage to say anything. I was half expecting her to pull me by the collar and punch me unconscious, but she just stood there, speechless. On top of me, Draco's body tensed and I felt him harnessing enough energy to speak.

"Hey," he said, breaking the awkward silence.

Underneath my feet, I felt all the tension release and I watched as hell broke loose from the protective chains that I kept it in.

Somewhere in Ginny's brain, everything was incoherent.

"I suppose I'm supposed to ignore this, aren't I. Just walk back to the wedding cake and stand there waiting for you like how any good wife would. Isn't that my role, Harry?" her voice raised an octave with every syllable. Every word was punching itself, drawing tears of betrayal from her eyes.

My eyes darted from her brown eyes to his grey ones. In one I found familiarity and in another I felt comfort.

"Ginny, it isn't what it seems," I began.

"Oh so, you weren't kissing Draco Malfoy with his hands halfway down your pants? Am I to believe that?"

Her hands hit the door with strength that I had never seen before. I felt Draco back away from his protective embrace of me. Instead, he trapped me in a corner, separating me from Ginny Weasley. My pretty bride looked deranged now; she was tugging at locks of hair, pulling every clip from her hair. Her hand darted to her ring finger, her hair sticking to her tear stained face.

"Give it up, Potter. I can't do this." she spat as she pulled out the ring and threw it on the ground.

My words of protest were muffled by Draco's back blocking me. I choked back the tears as Draco turned around.

"Leave," he said, with utmost seriousness.

He continued through my cries to protest.

"Go back home before she does, pack up everything that's important and meet me in front of the Manor. I have a flat in the city. You can live there," he continued, talking to the wall more than he was talking to me.

With that, he pushed me out of the door and I ran through the crowd and out of the door. A tearful Ginny kneeled on the floor, next to what was once the cake, as I dashed past the wave of gasps and shocked faces and did exactly what Draco told me to do.

That was all I had.


	4. Black Cakes

**Chapter 4**

_(POV: Draco Malfoy)_

Astoria sat in front of the mirror, brushing her brown hair, while her eyes stared at my reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she stood up and turned to face me.

"Draco, how do I look?" she said, softly, her eyes still fixated on me.

I put down my book and looked up to see her.

Her dark grey dress flowed to the ground and shifted a little to expose her delicate toes. Her pale skin brought out the electric quality of her silky hair.

But that electricity couldn't revive my heart. I returned to my book.

"You look marvellous, Astoria. You'll fit right in with the rest of the family."

There was a dinner with the German branch of Malfoy which I was invited to. I planned to go alone, as Mother was busy. However, Astoria insisted that she tag along.

"Marvellous? Is that all, Draco?" she said, her voice housing a mixture of unpleasant emotions.

I could feel trouble brewing; another argument, another fight, another seed of distrust that was slowly tearing apart what little love we had.

_The truth remained that I only married that little bitch to reunite the Greengrass and Malfoy families after the Second Wizarding War. _

I don't love her.

I looked up at her again. I could see her eyes following mine, hoping that I would glance at her plunging neckline, or skim her curves. I just looked into her brown eyes.

"You don't care, do you, Draco"

"No."

And there came the most painful silence I had ever heard.

"Say hello to Daphne for me."

It was tacit. I walked down the marble staircases that lead to the main hall, and for once, the marble felt warm. With every step I took, the grin on my face grew wider.

I reached out to the phone on the side table and picked up the receiver. With an audible sigh, I pressed speed dial and called my lawyer.

I muttered my name to the female voice on the other side who responded by stammering my name in a strangled voice.

Right, I had not called her since I shagged her seven months ago.

She directed me to my lawyer's line. I breathed deeply and muttered one single word.

"Divorce."

I could almost see him opening up the pre-prepared document and sending it to the printing office to be printed in that unholy pink paper.

I was always ready for this.

The air felt warmer.

Immediately after putting down the phone, I called a baker and asked him to prepare a cake with black frosting with a plastic case, big enough for a regular envelope, fitted down the middle.

Instead of cream and icing, Astoria could open her divorce letter as a birthday gift.

Equuleus from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had her eye on Astoria for a while. I walked down to the mansion's Owlery and picked up the finest white owl, to signify peace, and scribbled a letter to Equuleus writing a sob story of my treachery in Astoria's name. The owl flew.

It was over.

I walked out of the Owlery and down the steps.

I nodded to the portrait of my great-grandfather, as I stopped in the middle of the hallway which connected the main hall to the study, to use the brass telephone. The air felt pleasantly warm.

"Harry," I said to the person on the other end.

"Malfoy?"

I could hear faint noises in the background; noises that formed a giggle and an order for Harry to put down the phone. I prayed that I was hearing things.

"Harry, could you clean out a room? I need a place to stay in,"

There was a second of incoherent noises that escaped Harry's mouth. I tried to not jump to conclusions.

"Draco. Damn...this is a really bad time, Draco. Fuck...ahh. **Ah**, Draco, don't you...can I...**ahh**...can I call you back later."

Before the phone cut, I heard nostalgically familiar noises coming from Harry and the sweet voice which certainly did not belong to Harry.

The air turned into ice.

He didn't say my name quite the same.

I couldn't help but jump to conclusions.


	5. Happy Ending

**Chapter 5**

_(Malfoy's POV)_

There are no happy endings in this story.

There isn't any happy laughter or angry sex; just the pain of separation and the anger of betrayal.

The feeling of blood coursing down from your head on those sad lonely nights.

All he had to do was call and I would be there in an hour.

But he didn't

Astoria named our child Scorpius.

I'm supposed to send him off on his first day of school at Hogwarts to give everyone the impression of a happy family.

What a happy family we are; real fucking magazine material.

Harry ran back to Ginny.

Not all was forgiven, of course. It was an unhappy wedding. Harry couldn't be happy without me.

Or that's what I said to comfort myself.

There are no happy endings in my story; just the empty Manor, an empty bed and an even emptier heart.

And every night when I closed my eyes, only one face came to haunt my deliriously disgusting dreams.

Harry Potter.


End file.
